The Order of the Opaleye
by Jennie Chang
Summary: The Second War has begun and Charlie Weasley and his friends step up to the challenge despite the distance between them and the war. POSSIBLY WILL BE REWORKED! HIATUS!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to Warner Bros, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Heyday/1498 films, JK Rowling and Raincoat books. I don't lay any claim to it. The characters Simeon Slovensky, Mirabella Ribisi, Seth Johansson, and any family members or friends attached to these characters are the property of Narya (Rachel). The characters Abigail Ridges, Herbert Wilde, Nisha Wilde, any other extra minor and supporting characters, and the storyline belong to me, Jennie Chang. Please do not use any of these characters or storyline unless we are both consulted and give permission first. This disclaimer will be updated as needed.

**Dedication:** To Rachel for the use of her original characters born from her creative head and for everything else she's done for the benefit of the story.

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**Prologue**

The old-fashion alarm clock on the desk of Room 205 ticked away, the hands slowly making their way second by second to show two in the morning. Cool summer night air flowed openly through the window, barely known to the dragon keeper as he lay awake in his bed. With only the light of the moon and stars spilling into the room providing luminance and his hands cradling his head on the pillow, he stared straight up at the wooden boards above him, lost in thoughts as poles of the bunk bed created shadows along the floor.

Frequent bouts of insomnia had plagued Charlie Weasley for the better part of a year, and he'd become eerily comfortable with little sleep. With his head swamped in events happening nearly a whole continent away, in his motherland of the United Kingdom, his restlessness was understandable. It had been a long and treacherous year for the country, and many people weren't even aware of all that had been happening in the shadows.

For the dragon keeper who did know he could not escape endless thoughts, events replaying inside his head constantly.

An entire year had past since Charlie had laid his brown eyes on the owl bearing a letter sent by his brother, Bill. It had detailed the horrific news that had occurred at the final task of the Triwizard Tournament: the darkest wizard of the century, resurrected to a body and returning to do what he had sought to complete before he'd fallen, purge the race of impure wizards and rule the magical world. His return to life marked a return of war against him.

"_The Ministry isn't cooperating_," Bill's most serious and commanding voice rang inside his head as the memory of the letter flooded in. "_They refuse to believe it's happening, so Dumbledore has recalled the Order of the Phoenix_."

Though Bill hadn't detailed the specifics, Charlie already knew what the Order was and what it stood for. Without the Ministry, the Order was the only thing standing in the way of You-Know-Who, and from that there wasn't further doubt on what he had to do. In a mere two and a half words, he summed up his position: I'm in.

After that first letter from Bill, correspondence had become few and far between. Repetitively it was stated that little could be said for fear of interception along the route, leaving Charlie in the dark on matters of the home front. By editions of The Daily Prophet that found their way to the dragon reserve, Charlie couldn't blame the Order for being careful, as frustrating as it was to know so little. There was only one official task for him as stated in a message from his mother: make as many friends as possible and be sure to share with them.

Simeon, Abby, and Bella needed no convincing, as Charlie expected, but the rest of the reserve was a different story. The Dark Lord was legendary in the magical realm, but as they had learned the name was becoming urban legend. Very few could remember the reign of evil over the United Kingdom so long ago, many being young and far from the danger in their own countries. Of the few who believed it possible, the lack of Ministry support and the absence of dangerous events swayed them into neutrality, choosing to do nothing without some kind of confirmation, which the Dark Lord was not giving up easily.

"_You can't blame them for their doubts_," Simeon's words entered the stream of consciousness, his words being recalled from after an attempt to sway their co-workers with an article from The Quibbler. "_For so long, the very thought of You-Know-Who coming back has been considered rubbish. No one believed it could ever happen. Ve've been brainvashed to believe our Ministries. The fiction has clouded the fact_."

The words of his close friend had never been truer, from one side of Europe to the other. Even back in England, his own brother denied the possibility of the rise of the Dark Lord, fighting with their dad and moving out promptly. It was hard to blame anyone for his or her doubt, but it didn't eliminate the frustration it brought on in Charlie.

"_Don't dwell on these things or you'll drive yourself mad_," Abby's soothing sea-like voice came into his head, so clear he nearly expected her to be sitting next to his bottom bunk with her reassuring hand in his. "_Things will all work out as they are meant to be, we just have to trust it will be_."

It had become harder to take comfort in his girlfriend's words over the long and worrisome months. His father had spent time in hospital for reasons unknown, Azkaban had experienced a massive breakout of old You-Know-Who followers, Dumbledore had gone missing after an attempted arrest by the Ministry, and with the vagueness of the letters he was receiving, Charlie didn't know what else was possibly going on without his knowledge. His only comfort was in the fact that You-Know-Who had not yet acted in a large way, keeping his own resurrection quiet and not massively attacking defenceless innocent Muggles.

Turning over in bed Charlie lay flat on his stomach, trying desperately to get more comfortable and gain much needed sleep though he knew his attempt was a weak one. Sinking his chin into his clasped hands, he met with the few pictures he'd pasted to his headboard, hoping the happy memories they had captured would lull him into better thoughts than that of his constant worries. It was a short-lived hope as a fluttering noise whizzed into the window.

As quick as a whip, Charlie grabbed his wand from beneath his pillow, holding it at the level of his eye as he rolled out of bed and snapped onto his feet. Scanning the darkened room for any mark of an intruder, his heart beat faster than it ever had before as his wand flared with light.

"Who's there?" he asked in the gruffest voice he could muster. "Show yourself."

The flutter returned, a small blur flying upwards before Charlie's eyes, dropping a thick yellow envelope to the floor. Darting his eyes upward, the tiny blur gave a cheerful hoot as it flew about the ceiling before resting atop the wardrobe.

"What news, Pig?" Charlie breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his brother Ron's minute owl as he bent over and picked up the parchment off the floor.

Flipping the manual light switch near his desk, Charlie took his seat there, tearing the flap of the letter open while the miniature owl glided to his side atop the surface of the table. There were many pages of parchment enclosed, a lengthy letter and what seemed like dozens of clippings from The Daily Prophet and other newspapers, which was out of the ordinary. Without further waiting, he began to read.

He'd barely finished the first sentence before he tossed the letter from Bill aside and went straight into the article headlines. Reading every headline, his eyes only got wider, growing to the size of a house elf as he flipped through them.

Scrambling to his feet, Charlie didn't even bother to put on shoes as he ran out of his room. Nearly hitting the opposing wall, he raced down the hallway, jumping down many steps at a time before he reached the front door of his dormitory. He thrust it open without a thought, running onto the dewy moonlit grass barefoot with the articles grasped tightly in one fist.

Past the dormitories he went, turning around the corner of his own down a long dirt path leading to a cottage, tucked away from the normal sleeping quarters for the workers. The lights were out, showing that the inhabitants were fast asleep, but it didn't matter in Charlie's mind. He went straight to the door, banging on it with both fists for what seemed like a whole minute until the lights flickered on and the sound of shuffling slippers neared the entrance to the home.

The door opened slowly on creaky hinges, revealing a tired old man in a worn navy bathrobe. With a hand scratching at his stubbly white beard, he finished up a yawn before speaking to his employee.

"Charlie, what's wrong?" he muttered, opening his blue eyes as wide as he could in the presence of company as the meek woman behind him tied the fastening on her own lilac robe.

Holding the fistful of parchment out to his boss, he let the older man take them from him and glance over the headlines with his tiny spectacles. He watched as the man's blue eyes enlarged, and a second later his wife's as well while she read over his shoulder. The woman gasped, covering her gaping mouth as she looked up to Charlie.

"I have the confirmation, Herb," Charlie stated plainly. "He's made it known that he has indeed returned."

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**A/N:** Hi! Welcome back to anyone who was reading during Dragon Tears, and just plain welcome to anyone who may be reading this for the first time.

So, I've been writing this story for quite some time now, and it has gone on and off hiatus for a long time. Basically the plot has changed a lot, there are things I want to go back and change, but this prologue is likely to stay the same. Currently, I'm about eight chapters in. I thought I'd better get some feedback on this story. Yes, I'm going to write it, but I'm slow with it due to work and school and general life committments. It's the sequel to Dragon Tears, and the second part of the trilogy that I have planned out following Charlie Weasley and his friends in Romania during the war.

This story takes place over the tail end of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and all of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

I don't think that you would have needed to read Dragon Tears to understand this story, but you may want to read this in sequence and develop the characters in your own mind. I can't stop you from reading this before...so...yeah. A note on the formatting of that one, I need to redo some of it because of the whole elimination of the dash as a separator. If there's confusion over where parts end and begin, my bio has a link to Phoenix Prophecy where I've posted that story wholly and it is formatted correctly.

But yeah, if you want more visual images of the characters, all characters had actors or some person that their physical appearances were based on. Charlie Weasley comes from canon and Paul Hamm, Simeon was based on Edward Furlong, Abby came from Amanda Bynes and Bella's appearance came from Emmy Rossum.

Other than that, enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated and responded to.


	2. Chapter One: A State of War

**RubeusHagrid34:** Always a pleasure to know you're happy with this story. I'm glad to be working on this and writing the characters as well.

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**Chapter One: A State of War**

"Bella." Abby Ridges prodded at her sleeping roommate, shaking the woman's shoulder as she slumbered deeply. "Bella, wake up!"

"No, not yet, Mama," the exhausted woman whispered, her eyes remaining firmly closed as she rolled over to her left side, despite her roommate's jabbing. "One more hour, per favore, Mama."

"Bella!" the Healer shouted forcefully, yanking the pink bed covers off of the dreaming one and pulling her shoulders upward so she sat straight. "Wake up! Now! Emergency!"

The last word of Abby's abbreviated speech got Bella to open her eyes groggily. The dark unlit room moved around her a little, as if it were revolving while she sat completely still, while her senses became aware of their surroundings again. As her ears began to regain operation, another voice became evident in them as the tone echoed across the courtyard.

"EVERYONE MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE MAIN BUILDING AUDITORIUM," Herb's magnified voice came in through the window, clear enough to sound as though he were just outside their door. "EVERYONE MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE MAIN BUILDING AUDITORIUM. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."

"What's happening?" Bella asked, her mind snapping to attention at the sound of their boss.

Abby rose from Bella's bed, going into her roommate's closet and grabbing a housecoat and pair of shoes for her. "I don't know, but we'd better get moving."

With a nod, Bella slipped into the pink sandals and fuzzy bathrobe Abby had handed her before following her roommate out the door. The corridor was crowded with their fellow co-workers, the lot talking outside of their rooms over what could possibly be so important as to drag them out of bed. Not paying attention to the many conversations occurring, Abby wove her way through the masses, slipping by shoulders and narrow spaces with her friend in tow.

"Come on, everyone," rallied Tamara Cohen shooting a spray of red sparks into the air. "You all heard the announcement. Move along."

"Today, ladies!" the familiar bark of Valerie Walters got the women jumpstarted, the lot trailing behind Bella.

The staircase was far less crowded than the hallway, those in the landings below them barely moving from them without a shout from Valerie. In a single file line, the third floor of the dormitory made their way down and out, greeted by the blast of shivering morning air and the crowds of men exiting their own dormitory buildings.

"Anyone know what's going on?" Abby asked a group of the dragon keepers as they met on the path towards the main building.

"Not the vaguest idea," one replied, giving her a sympathetic shrug as they marched onward.

"Oh, where is Simeon?" Bella whimpered, wrapping her housecoat around her petite body tightly, conserving what warmth she already had as she craned her neck to look across the crowd. "And where's Charlie for that matter?"

Abby hadn't heard her friend's words as she continued leading their dormitory towards their destination, keeping her green eyes wide open for a glimpse of shocking red hair. As her warm breath became no more than white fog in front of her, it was a relief to be indoors again as she passed the threshold between the courtyard and the main building. Not stopping to look behind her at the masses that were pouring out of the sleeping quarters, she kept moving ahead, making straight for the auditorium as was instructed.

"Bella," a voice came out from another corridor that led out into the dragon domain. "Bella!"

From a small handful of dragon keepers coming off the night watch ran a single slim male dressed from head to toe in black, contrasting the paleness of his skin. With his increasing speed towards the women, the shaggy dark bangs that usually covered his eyes from view swept back to rest close to his ears. Immediately, Bella held out her arms to the dragon keeper, letting his open grasp embrace her as they fit together like two black and pink puzzle pieces.

Peering down the corridor Simeon had come from, Abby partially expected another being to shoot out from around a corner and wrap his muscular freckled arms around her. Unease filled her from the pit of her stomach and spread outward as the corridor emptied without a single red hair in sight. The words bubbled inside, finally bursting out.

"Where's Charlie?"

With his hold on Bella loosening at the question, the dragon keeper looked towards the Healer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I vas about to ask you that. I svitched shifts vith another person for the day. He should have been in his room."

"I haven't seen him," Abby's voice grew slightly higher, breaking her eye contact with Simeon to give the corridor a frantic scan.

"Ve shall find him, Miss Abby," Simeon assured immediately, taking one hand away from Bella in order to take Abby's palm, leading the two ladies in the direction of the auditorium where the crowd was flooding in.

"NO TIME FOR SMALL TALK EVERYONE," Herb's voice echoed through the vast space over many heads, the balding man wearing his bathrobe standing at the podium with his wand to his throat just as Simeon brought Bella and Abby in. "FIND SEATS RIGHT AWAY."

"Ve shall find him after," Simeon stated plainly, moving towards a few empty chairs, gently prodding Abby to budge as her eyes scanned over those whom had already found their places.

Locating a few seats near the back of the immense auditorium, Simeon seated himself between the two women, holding Bella's cold hands as they waited for everyone else to file in. Despite Herb's instruction to not speak, few who entered were obeying the command of their employer, far too curious to be silent about it. For Abby, she could find no words as all her energy went into her eyes looking for the one she worried for.

The slamming of the lecture hall's doors was what brought the quiet hush Herb had requested, the few workers who had not found seats squatting in the aisles. All attention was finally put towards the man in the navy bathrobe at the head of the room with a podium in front of him. Clearing his throat promptly, he removed his wand from his vocal cords, not needing the increased volume any longer.

"Thank you, all," he began, gripping the stand in front of him for support, "for getting out of bed and coming here. I realise you're all tired and wondering why I've called upon you. Trust in that I would not gather you all for small talk."

Herb stopped cold in the midst of his speech; his knuckles becoming white as they held the wooden stand even tighter. Rising from her front row seat, Nisha went to his side, quickly grabbing her husband's hand. Though she spoke nothing and had no wand to her use, Herb's hold upon the podium relaxed in an instant, words working their way onto his tongue slowly.

"It is my duty," Herb started again in his clear voice, puffing of his chest proudly and standing out straight as if to own authority, "to inform you all that the rumours circulating for the past year have been confirmed. As of recently with new information, the wizard community in the United Kingdom has informed of a state of war against the forces of...You-Know-Who."

The audience gasped in unison, and immediate whispers broke out. One of Bella's hands released itself from Simeon's tight hold, bringing it to her lips as if she were preventing herself from a scream.

"You're going as mad as Weasley, Herb," one voice called out above the rest of the scattered speaking. The talker stood, showing his seat just in front of Abby and Simeon. "He Who Must Not Be Named died nearly sixteen years ago thanks to The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Abby and Bella had only blinked once, which was enough time for the man sitting between them to rise and grab the loudmouth in the row ahead. Taking him by the collar of his white nightshirt, he was suspended a few inches off of the ground as Simeon spun to face the one who had spoken ill of both his boss and friend in one sentence.

"Do not speak of vhat you do not know," the Bulgarian dragon keeper made clear in a quiet voice before setting his fellow keeper down and sinking back into his chair and his girlfriend's hand.

"It is best to now turn this conversation over to the one who knows of this situation better than us," Herb continued, interjecting before anyone else could say or do anything. "Charlie!"

The lights in the auditorium fell into immediate dramatic darkness following Charlie's name. From the very back, where a small technical booth was, the sound of a starting overhead projector was whirring loudly. As the machine flickered, it produced a large image at the front of the amphitheatre barely legible by the light of the machine. A few words could be caught between the constant and sudden fading of the picture, but not enough to comprehend what was flashing in front of their eyes for those nanoseconds. It seemed like an eternity had passed before the image from The Daily Prophet was clear in front of them and was available to be read.

_HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS_

_In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned to this country and is once more active.  
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord - well, you know who I mean - is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters._

No one had finished reading the entire piece fully before the door to the small booth opened. Emerging into the darkened auditorium and walking down the steps to the front of the room, Charlie made his way to the podium where Herb had stood only a moment ago. Beneath the image of the magnified newspaper article, he looked straight into the attentive eyes of those around him. All awaiting explanation, there seemed to be much to be said, but no way to say it correctly.

"No matter how it is said, or how many times we can try to deny it, it is the same," he finally spurted out, maintaining an emotionless face before his colleagues. "The Second War has officially begun.

"We may think that because it is occurring on the other side of the continent that we aren't involved. Maybe we don't have to worry about it because it won't come here. Many of us don't even remember the First War with He Who Must Not Be Named. But it is the responsibility of everyone to be aware of what's happening."

Charlie paused to scratch his freckled nose, looking up as a few solemn heads before him bowed sheepishly. From the front row Herb held his beloved's hand, both of their memories of the first war clear from the moisture in their eyes and the quivers that plagued their fingers.

"He Who Must Not Be Named brought terror upon the United Kingdom a long time ago," he explained the bare facts and essentials. "His ideals opposed certain principles we embody daily here: tolerance, acceptance, and love. Many innocent Muggles and wizards died at his hand or at the hands of Death Eaters, for reasons that they had no control over. He tried to eliminate those of Muggle parentage and sympathisers of them as well."

He stopped again. Staring straight downward and gripping the sides of the podium he couldn't bring himself to face the audience in fear that a pair of green eyes would be looking at him. His fist knocked on the wood of the podium gently, hoping that the old tradition did indeed rid a jinx that lingered on the tongue.

"He fortunately met his downfall by The-Boy-Who-Lived," he continued on, finding his voice in his foggy throat, "but it was not his end, as we have recently confirmed. He Who Must Not Be Named has returned and we can assume without doubt that he will continue where he left off in his quest to cleanse the race of wizards by destroying the unworthy.

"Already, he has many of his old and faithful followers, the Dementors, and potentially more at his disposal. He will attempt to rally his forces, and find as many followers as possible. His campaign does not know borders. He has found faithful wizards and witches outside of the United Kingdom and clear across Europe before. Dark magic is not a single country's problem."

The entire audience seemed to swallow their saliva at the same time, hoping that their nerves would go down with the spit with little success.

"Across the continent or not, this war is going to affect us," Charlie began to wind down, dropping his head lower slightly. "For those of us who may have grown up or have family or friends living in the United Kingdom, it may affect us more. I don't ask for anything more than what you have already given me. You have heard the facts and of the dangers and that is all I can ask for. Thank you for your time."

"I must add," Herb jumped in immediately standing from his front row seat, his hand still entwined with Nisha's quivering one, "that due to the war I am imposing a travel ban to the United Kingdom, effective immediately. Unless you have important matters to tend to, such as family emergencies or something of that nature, there will be no travelling there permitted."

The hall broke out into protesting mob instantly, many of the residents from the United Kingdom standing up and yelling out their disgust for the reserve's new rule. Filling up with angered and worried complaints it was though the room's silence had never actually existed during Charlie's speech.

"That's ridiculous!"

"My mum and dad are Muggles! I need to go to them!"

"Who is going to protect my kid brother? He's not even out of Hogwarts yet!"

"We need to be able to check on friends!"

The volume of the masses rose, equating to that of a football riot minus the ripping out of stationary chairs. Screams of protest meshed with yells to be quiet in one large melody of chaos that made Bella bury her head into Simeon's shoulder so she didn't have to watch the unrest unfold.

Neither of them had seen Abby get out of her seat and walk out the auditorium door.

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**A/N:** I can post the first chapter! After some reviewing of the story as a whole thus far, all the needed edits come after the fourth chapter, so I figured it would be safe to post this.

I don't think there's much to say about this though in terms of notes and such. The contents of the letter in the prologue are revealed.

Yeah, other than that, the only other thing I can mention is...I hope you like it?


	3. Chapter Two: In Another's Hands

**RubeusHagrid34: **Tis rough for the people, but I'm glad to know you're still enjoying and excited about this fic. Hope all is well on your end.

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**Chapter Two: In Another's Hands**

Dawn had not yet shown her sunlight along the Romania landscape by the emergency meeting's end, causing the regular artificial lights to be at full strength in all the corridors and rooms. Drifting from crowded corridor to packed place, there was no one person without worry of war clouding his or her mind. While some were still ranting on the unfairness of the travelling ban imposed, others were still allowing the initial shock to sink into their souls, their silence dominating the air.

"Have you ever felt such tension, Simeon?" Bella whispered as she drew closer to her boyfriend as they sat together on the floor of a carpeted hallway. "I haven't heard such quiet before."

With his firm hand running over her hair Simeon merely held her close, his lips keeping shut. Letting her head find a niche in his chest, they watched as a group of men walk by them, all of their eyes adrift as they marched robotically together.

"Do you remember the First War, Simeon?" Bella asked out of the blue, pulling herself upright and against the wall. "Do you remember You-Know-Who's reign at all?"

Simeon sighed. "I only heard of his terrors. He had followers in Bulgaria, but none of this vas known until after the var. I vas far from danger."

"We were just so young," commented Bella, tucking a loose curl of hair behind her ear before resting that side of her face in the open palm, "and so far away from any real harm. I can't imagine what growing up in the middle of war must have been like for Charlie. I celebrated his downfall with everyone else in the world, but I know I didn't understand that I was celebrating the end of massive bloodshed, the halt of a potential genocide and the fall of the evilest wizard to grace the world."

Pausing at the end of the sentence, she found herself frozen as she stared at her palms, the shimmer in her eyes suggesting she would burst into hysterical tears in the next second. Breathing deeply she prevented hyperventilation before daring to continue with her speech.

"It's frightening to imagine I'll live to see a war in the world," she breathed heavily.

"You vill live to see it end as vell," the dragon keeper reassured carefully, putting his own hands gently onto hers, "because the vorld will not stand aside to let him take over and purify the race of vizard."

"You can put your money on that one," a third voice interrupted before Bella could respond to Simeon's claim.

"Oh, Charlie," exclaimed the Italian researcher as she quickly sprung onto her feet, not hesitating for a second while holding him in her arms. Slow flowing water came down her cheeks, moistening Charlie's shirt. "It was very brave of you to speak like that tonight. The truth is finally known by everyone here."

The man in her embrace could only nod as she backed away, her fingers brushing against her cheeks and removing the tears she had unconsciously shed.

"Are you all right?" Simeon questioned once his feet had found the ground.

"I'm fine," his roommate answered almost too quickly for comfort, his eyes blinking fast in an attempt to fight the sleep they wanted so. As much as his body was worn and ready to collapse on the spot from the restless night, his mind could only recognize the missing component of the moment.

"Where's Abby?"

* * *

The only source of illumination in the infirmary was a glowing candle hanging in midair above the doorway. It was kept there every night for the purpose of safety should someone in need of medical attention stumble in late at night without a wand to light the way. The source wasn't the best, certainly not appropriate for an extended period of time, but it was sufficient for the first few steps into the room.

And even though the Healer knew all that, she had preferred to hide in the shadows of that single candle, standing in front of the window and looking blankly at her own image against the black sky.

Not even the beauty of the night was of any comfort to Abby. Though the stars and moon were still constant and unchanged in spite of the world, it didn't help to think it shone down on a land where the possibility of bloodshed was growing.

"I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me," Abby quoted the twenty-third psalm in a faint whisper, hoping in vain that hearing the words themselves would help. "Easier said than done."

Closing her tired eyes, she couldn't see the reflection in the window, where a figure was shown over her shoulder entering the dark infirmary.

"I wondered where you'd gone to," the figure spoke, not bothering to turn the lights of the infirmary on, keeping cloaked in the darkness. "What are you up to?"

"Just thinking," replied Abby, not needing to open her eyes or turn around to know who was addressing her as her forehead bowed to rest in her hand.

"About anything I should know?" the voice answered back, slowly drawing closer to where she stood by the windows.

"Only if you think you should know," Abby came back coldly shaking her head.

Gently, a pair of freckled arms wrapped around her chilly shoulders, holding her close enough to share heat as a beating heart was held to her back. The softness of a fleshy cheek pressed against the side of her head, her hair getting in the way of a familiar feeling nose.

"As your boyfriend, I make an effort to know anything you tell me," the man pressed against her body said, kissing the top of her head lightly.

Abby allowed the side of her face to find the nook she knew well between the neck and shoulder of her beloved. Leaning inward, she rested her forehead into that place of familiar comfort, allowing her hands to hang onto Charlie's arms as if they were holding her in place. Unmoving for a moment, it was difficult to tell if she was just silent or had fallen asleep in his embrace.

"I'm worried," she finally admitted, her eyes cast downward as Charlie brought one hand up to stroke her long brunette mane, bringing the loose bits back so they sat behind her delicate ear.

"Everyone is entitled to doing that," he assured sweetly, holding her a bit tighter in the darkness of the room, "things being the way they are."

Abby nodded, still not brining her grass-green gaze any higher than it was as she pulled herself closer to Charlie's radiating warmth, her own body heat fading while she shivered in her thin summer pyjamas.

"What exactly are you afraid of?" her boyfriend inquired curiously, leaning lightly against her head.

"It's not so much about what there is fear of," Abby replied, her eyes rising as they turned away from Charlie. "It's whom I fear for: Anna and mum."

A sigh escaped Charlie's lips, rustling the mane of Abby as his cool breath grazed her left ear. It was good reason to worry.

"I'm not there to protect them," she continued in a hushed monotone voice, shaking her head in shame. "War is being waged, those of non-magical heritage have the largest targets on them, and I'm here when I should be there protecting them."

"I know," Charlie tried to comfort her, speaking sweet and low. "I feel the same way about my family."

"But your family has magic," Abby rationalised calmly, finally bringing her eyes to look at Charlie for the first time that night, taking her grip of his arms off as she turned in his embrace. "They can defend themselves fairly, at the least, magic against magic. When You-Know-Who wasn't acting and biding time, I didn't have to worry about them so, but now what? What is there to help mum and Anna?"

"Something very powerful will watch over them," he answered, not having to think twice about his answer as he removed his arms from her shoulders. "The Lord."

In the light of the moon, for a split second, Charlie thought he saw a glimmer in the corner of Abby's green eyes. It was unknown whether or not it was a trick of the light or not, but in a single blink, the glisten had vanished and no longer mattered. Instead, she merely nodded, inching towards her boyfriend, resting her hands on his chest and sliding them upwards so they wrapped around his neck. The nestling of her head into the familiar nook let him know he could hold her again.

"I still think I should be with them," added Abby with a defiant sigh.

"I know."

* * *

"Hot chocolate to sooth the nerves," Nisha proclaimed softly, pouring everyone a cupful as she walked between the tables of the mess hall. "Even if you aren't hungry, it can do a world of good."

Dawn was just beginning to show as the foursome of friends sipped their hot drinks by the window, watching the sun's light slowly peek out in the distance. The sky had become an array of different hues between the start of day and the end of the night, but even the colourful palate of a warm summer day didn't lift the spirits of the group any higher than they could be.

"So this is the dawn of a war," Bella thoughtlessly whispered to the windowpane, wrapping her delicate hands around her warm cup with a pitiful moan. "This is when it all starts: the bloodshed, the pain, and the death."

Simeon, Charlie and Abby didn't open their mouths to respond; unable to find the words to fill that empty silence after Bella had stopped talking to the glass. The only noise to follow was the sound of hot chocolate going from a large pot and hitting the empty bottoms of mugs across the room. There was nothing that could follow Bella's dark observations.

"I should owl Mama," Bella spoke again, looking away from the window and rising from the chair, "and see what the Italian Ministry of Magic has published about all of this."

Without a second glance to her friends or boyfriend, she whisked out of the mess hall, leaving the group with their state of silence and hot chocolate.

Taking sips from their hot drinks, the air around them that was once ignited with life lay as still as the war's anticipated deaths. Abby had taken over Bella's task by staring blankly out the window as the two men could only look at the brown liquid swirling about in their cups.

"On the bright side," Simeon started, breaking silence for the first time instead of creating it, "the truth is now out. You are proven correct, Charlie. Everyone knows."

Charlie smirked for a second, his grin quickly fading into a frown. "Oddly enough, I'd rather be a liar than have this war upon us."

"But now that they know, they have a choice," explained his Bulgarian friend. "They can fight for vhat they believe in, or they can stand idle by. It is out of your hands now, and in another's."

The lack of words between the two friends said more than anything else could; there was no arguing against Simeon Slovensky, only a polite nod and reassuring glance as one sipped their drink.

"Mr Weasley," a clear female's voice called across the mess hall.

The entire mess hall looked up as Tamara Cohen made her way towards Charlie's window-seat table, fully dressed for a full day of archival work in contrast to everyone else who still wore pyjamas. Her sharp eagle-like eyes bore down through her thick glasses into the one she sought as she approached, looking right over Charlie like a piece of prey.

"I understand that you're with a reputable organization," she began, crossing her arms over her pressed white lab coat, "involved in the current situation in the U.K. and attempting to put a halt to this uprising."

It took a moment for the dense vocabulary to sink into his head fully. "Are you talking about the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yes," Tamara straightened up a little, clearing her throat and taking in a long breath. "I wish to take part in this effort in any possible way I can, by joining the Order you speak of."

Charlie paused. Opening his mouth to say something, he found no words could find their way to his lips. It had been his mission from Dumbledore to find people to support the Order, and over a year of failed attempts it had become a lost cause. To hear an open statement like Tamara's, speech had become inhibited by pure shock and the only thing he could do was look from Simeon to Abby to Tamara.

"I would too," another voice came across the room.

From one of the long tables stood Raheem Jabbar, one of the newly recruited Iranian dragon keepers. Proudly holding his chin high he walked from his seat in the middle of the bench 

to stand next to Tamara, raising his hand as if to give her a high five that wouldn't be reciprocated.

"Count me in too, Charlie," Tristan Porter ejected loudly as he rose.

"Me too," a few more shouted in unison.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named must become He-Who-Shall-Never-Terrorise- Again," Tamara added as the entire mess hall began to stand and rally around the little table, "and it is our duty to help that become reality."

"And it shall be," Charlie nodded, smiling at the growing crowd.

* * *

**A/N:** Another update in the chronicles that started out as one and somehow grew into three stories. I don't think there's anything explicit to mention about it. It's fairly straight forward.

Abby does quote a Biblical passage, so perhaps to re-affirm that if I get references wrong you can feel free to correct me, but by using religion I'm not attempting to convert or anything. To me, it's the way of life for characters.  
Enjoy!


	4. Chapter Three: News

**RubeusHagrid34:** Good to know you're happy about that fact.

* * *

**Chapter Three: News**

An influx of owls fluttered over the reserve in the following weeks, everyone keen on sending messages to family and friends to assure they were all safe as well as to get the international coverage on the matter. The countless news-article clippings coming in resulted in both a larger supply of owl treats and a massive bulletin board being mounted to the wall of the mess hall so all news could be posted for the benefit of everyone, though it was never the best of news being placed there.

It hadn't taken You-Know-Who long before terror began to seep into the known world and consume every inch of the corkboard. It had only been a matter of days before tales of suspicious disappearances, collapsing bridges, giant attacks, murders, and the like were hitting the presses like lightening bolts. Every day was some new story heating up discussion like an unstoppable storm, and it showed no signs of letting up.

"The Australian Ministry of Magic finally reported the promotion of Rufus Scrimgeour to Minister for Magic in England," Ryan Donaldson reported as he pinned up a small clipping from The Billywig Buzz. "Took those idiots in Canberra long enough. It's been a while since it actually happened."

"The Prophet's been reporting on him all week," pointed out Li Ming Lee, her finger following the words on another newsprint article. "Most recently, it's about his making the protection of Hogwarts students a top priority."

"Good thing too," Ardel Collins nodded along. "At least Oi know my brother will be in good hands. Mum was considerin' keepin' him at home this year what with all that's been happening, and he's about to sit his O.W.L.S."

Farther off from the information-hungry crowd around the bulletin board, Charlie and Bella were huddled in what had become their group's usual place near the window. The both of them read intently as they scanned over their mail of the day, eagerly hoping for something good happening at home while waiting for the two missing members of their foursome to arrive.

"Everything okay?" Charlie asked as Bella put down the letter she had been reading and brushed her long curls back past her ears.

"Yes," she nodded with a weak smile. "My cousin Alberto was in London for business, but he's back at home now, safe and sound. Thank Merlin for it. We've all been on pins and needles since he left." She sighed heavily in relief, placing her hands on her opposing upper arms as if to shield them from the cold despite the fact the Romanian summer raged intensely onward just a pane of glass away. "How is everything with your family?"

"So far, all right," replied Charlie, diving back into one of the many letters that were piled together, one written from each of his immediate family members minus the excommunicated Percy, who had always been too busy for trivial correspondence anyway. "At the least they're all sounding safe, and somewhere in there dad got promoted in all the chaos."

"Bella," the voice of Simeon entered the vicinity.

Before the Italian researcher could even get a look at her boyfriend, a pair of lips found hers in a brief peck as he pushed past her chair and took the one beside her. The material in his hand fell onto the table with a heavy splat as his thin fingers made quick work of the strings tied around it.

"What is that?" Bella asked, looking at the newsprint curiously.

"The Romanian Horn," Simeon answered without a single beat of hesitation, unrolling the local newspaper. "Everyone has been looking for vorldvide news. No one looks at this anymore."

"But this is in Romanian," observed Bella, looking at the foreign tongue plastered over every inch of the paper in his hand. "Don't they normally print an English edition that you and Charlie read?"

"They have disbanded the English, not enough readers," stated Simeon simply, opening up the pages and diving into the context. "And I can read Romanian."

"I didn't know that," his girlfriend exclaimed, slumping slightly in her chair on learning the new fact.

Her boyfriend had already become submersed by the words on the page before she could make any other comment. Both of the men at her table consumed words on paper as the final member their regular quartet slipped into her seat in silence, bearing four cups of coffee for the crew as well as the latest news straight from her ears to her lips.

"It seems that France has offered aid to the effort in the form of their top Aurors," she reported to the half-listening men and Bella as she added a pinch of sugar to her morning drink. "They're hoping that a bit of international blood may help in all this madness, at least in adding to the number of people tracking down some of those known Death Eaters."

"Anything helps," responded Charlie, not looking up from the letters he was reading. "What with the Dementors abandoning Azkaban, the government in Greece offered some Manticores as guards, though I doubt the Ministry in London will accept that sort of aid. Manticores can't be trained to act beneath wizards, but it's the thought that counts."

"In times like these, it is reassuring to know the wizardkind will help each other regardless of borders," Bella idealistically sighed, adding a light cream to her coffee. "There is hope in our generation of people."

"It's unfortunate that the same probably goes for You-Know-Who," pointed out her fellow female companion at the table. "It wouldn't shock me if he had support coming in from outside of England. He certainly did last time."

Bella's mouth shut in the instant, her face falling from hope as she concentrated on her rhythmic stirring. The tiny clinging of her spoon hitting the porcelain cup echoed over the quiet table, each ding hitting Abby's regret in saying what cynicism had already come out of her mouth.

"Well by Merlin," Charlie's soft sigh of an exclamation caught his friends' attention before Abby could open her mouth to apologize to her roommate. "That brother of mine."

Laying the small stack of paper on the table he leaned back in his chair gently, a smile torn between serenity and amusement spreading over his face as the trio around him could only give him glances burning with their curiosity. In a fast exchange of looks, they silently nominated his girlfriend to speak.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, Bill's engaged," he responded with a grin, reversing his body's position by propping himself up on the elbows that rested on the wooden surface.

"Bill?" Abby's eyes widened. "Your older brother? Engaged?"

"He's been dating the Triwizard Champion from Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour, for about a year now," he explained. "And they've been working together at Gringotts Bank for some time and now they're planning for their summer wedding next year."

"Well, there's something to lighten the spirits," Bella cheerfully joined in on the conversation, raising her coffee mug as if to toast the distant couple. "Congratulations to them both. That's exciting news. Your parents must be so proud."

Charlie paused, looking down at the letter penned by his brother's quill before turning back to the lady sitting across from him. "Not exactly."

Holding the piece of parchment out to Bella, she took it into her hands and read the paragraph that Charlie pointed out aloud for the rest to hear.

"Fleur is determined to have the wedding next summer, and her planning has begun already, much to mum's displeasure. I suppose mum was hoping we would wait to be man and wife a bit longer and extend our engagement. She thinks we're jumping in awfully quick, due to the current situation here. I think she forgets that she and dad eloped on a whim those many years ago. Her reasoning might be a bit deeper than just the speed of the engagement, not that her reasoning matters in my marriage. Fleur does come off a bit strong to some people. But anyway, I'm sure once everyone at home gets to know her a little better, they'll soon love the idea of her being Mrs William Weasley."

Bella stopped there. "Well, I'm sure your brother is right. Once they've spent some time with her, they'll absolutely adore her. I mean, clearly your brother does and that should be enough reason for all of them to love her. They'll approve the marriage eventually, don't you think so, Simeon?"

The Bulgarian didn't answer, continuing to read the Romanian newspaper as if his dark shaggy hair had blocked every word from entering his ears. For every word that he read on the page with his sole focus, Bella's eyebrows arched another millimetre into a burning scowl.

"Simeon, would you care to join the conversation before Bella slaps you?" Abby asked, gently nudging the dragon keeper's foot from beneath the table as she blew the steam from her coffee.

Putting the paper down on the table and leaning his forearms on top of it, the dark man looked in Charlie and Bella's direction with his bangs bordering his forehead so his nearly black eyes were visible. "It is your brother's decision. Family approval should not stop him from vhat he vants."

"But she is marrying into the entire family, not just your brother," Bella argued before Simeon's eyes could tilt towards the news again. "They need some kind of peace of the issue. And of course they'll learn to love her like a daughter anyway. It just takes time like any good thing."

She pursed her lips together and stared at Simeon, waiting for him to respond to her statement. Taking in a deep breath, the Bulgarian dragon keeper straightened up in his chair, his hands flat on the table.

"I stand by my opinion," he stated fast and plain, turning his head back towards the newspaper before Bella could try to argue him into taking her side.

"So is that meeting for the Order still on tonight?" Abby asked loudly over the table, diverting Bella's dangerous looking grimace.

"Oh, yes," replied Charlie, straightening up a little in his chair as he gathered up the parchment letters scattered in front of him and placed them in the envelope they had arrived in, "but there's not going to be very much to talk about. I haven't received any new instructions other than to continue spreading the word, even though most people around here have already heard it. The Order is pretty busy right now, what with the dismantling of the Headquarters and all. I don't expect they'll have anything new for us by tonight."

With a single nod Abby pressed her lips tight together, looking away from Charlie for a moment as if stirring a bit more sugar into her coffee had become an incredibly important task that life depended on.

"Are you all right?" the redhead questioned immediately, laying his hand upon Abby's wrist and feeling the shiver that invisibly ran through her nerves.

At his touch, her rhythmic stirring halted and the spoon clattered against the side of the mug. Her emerald eyes turned to him, looking straight into hazel ones she had grown accustomed to trusting.

"It's just frustrating," she said in a hushed indifferent tone. "We keep being told to do these things while the Order back home is facing You-Know-Who directly. Wizards are disappearing and dying for a cause that we're just as passionate about but seem completely unattached to."

The hand resting atop of Abby's wrist moved into her fingers, twisting about as if they were meant to be one hand. Pulling the entwined appendages closer towards him, Charlie put his other hand over them, giving her a squeeze and waiting for the mark of a possible smile to make its appearance on her lips.

"Remember," he reassured her calmly, "anything helps. It may not be obvious, but we're doing our part in this effort. Through the members here, we've extended support beyond the realm of Europe, to Asia and Australia and America. We're helping in the ways that we can and in the ways they need us to help."

Abby nodded, giving Charlie the weak smile that he desired to see on her face. Bringing her closer to him, he kissed the backside of her hand and instantly sensed the shiver in her skin fade away.

"Shame ve can extend support from different continents," Simeon proclaimed at random, not looking up from his reading material, "but ve have not gotten support from the country ve are in."

"What?" Charlie looked at his roommate in puzzlement before turning back to Abby whose hands had chilled again.

"I have been reading this paper for some time," his best friend replied turning to the last page, "and they have made few reports about the situation. They mention it in their international section, but there is little. And by looks, they are not offering to help the effort in any vay."

As the words came across the table, the two sitting across from Simeon could not say anything in response. Looking at the messenger of the news there was nothing to be said, their silent gazes speaking for them.

"Are you sure about that Simeon?" Bella questioned, shaking her head in refusal to believe her boyfriend's words. "Perhaps they have, but they have not publicised the information."

"It would be made public," Charlie replied blankly, his hands still tightly tangled with Abby's. "One way or another, it would be known by every wizard in the country. No one would turn down good publicity."

"Maybe you missed a day of news, Simeon?" the researcher suggested again.

"No," the dragon keeper shook his head, his shaggy bangs moving to cover one of his eyes before he brushed it to the side of his face. "I have read every day, even kept the copies."

"I think we know what we'll have to do then," Charlie sighed, breaking his hold on Abby to rise from his chair, downing the rest of his hot coffee in one long gulp and starting to march out of the mess hall.

"And what would that be?" Abby called after him, rising from her seat and readying to chase him down the hall if he didn't answer.

He turned around a few feet from the table, looking into the determined green stare of Abby Ridges and mirroring her seriousness.

"Something more direct."

* * *

It wasn't until later in the evening that Simeon had managed to catch up to Charlie during their night watch shift, finding the redheaded dragon keeper yawning tiredly at his watch post. Leaning against the wall, it looked as through the young freckled man may have been sleeping right there and then had it not been that his best friend laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him into alertness.

"You cancelled the meeting for the Order tonight," said Simeon, handing his roommate his own cup of steaming hot chocolate. "There should be no excuse for you to be sleeping at vork."

"I had other things to keep me occupied today," Charlie replied, gratefully taking a sip of the hot drink.

"And I take that those things were not on the reserve," the subtle inquisitive side of his friend emerged. "No one could find you until now. Abby was worried for you."

There was a pause between the two dragon keepers; one waiting for a response while the other contemplated whether or not to tell as he poured the rest of the hot chocolate down his throat. As the liquid emptied from the cup and into the pit of Charlie's empty stomach, Simeon knew it was only a matter of time before his friend would have to tell him everything.

"I was in Bucharest," he finally answered the question that had slithered under Simeon's actual words.

"Vhat vere you doing there?" inquired the Bulgarian, dropping the subtly as he snatched his empty cup away from Charlie.

"Visiting the Ministry of Magic there," his fellow keeper replied instantly. "I was hoping to get an audience with someone, but…"

"The higher Ministry staff is on their annual holiday in the Ukraine," Simeon finished off the sentence to Charlie's astonishment. "I read about it in the newspaper."

"Would have been nice to know that earlier today," Charlie sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Well, that's how my day was wasted. That, and the fact it took them nearly an hour to find a worker on-duty there who knew some English to translate for me. They only told me to return when all the officials returned from their vacations."

Charlie let out a long exhale, leaning his head back against the wall and watching the dark empty skies for any restless dragons that decided to grace the keepers with their presence. Bracing himself for the exhausting hours ahead, he once again felt Simeon's cool hand on his shoulder.

"Go to bed, Charlie," his best friend said, pushing his friend towards the stairs that would lead him back to the main building. "You have had a long day. I vill stand the post for both of us."

"Oh, it's okay," Charlie fought back, though unsuccessfully as he was too tired to even resist his roommate leading him away from their watch. "It's only a few hours. And it's not fair to you to do both our jobs at once."

"You are of no help to me tired," argued Simeon. "I vill not tell anyone. Just get some sleep. You vill need it to devise a plan for the next time the Order goes vith you to Bucharest."

With that said Simeon turned around and headed back to their section on the observation wall, buttoning his own long black coat as he went. Before Charlie could even look back from the top of the stairs where he'd been left, his best friend had blended in with the colour of night and disappeared from his field of view.

Knowing there was no use trying to fight his roommate and his own urges Charlie slinked down the stairs, towards his waiting bed and a long night's sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** So lots going on here, but not much to really note on. There's a lot of information directly from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince's first few chapters in terms of what's going on in England and such. Other than that I can't think of anything I should be noting.

In the next chapter, we're heading for Bucharest!

Hope you're liking this.


	5. Chapter Four: The Minister of Bucharest

**RubeusHagrid34:** Simeon having the ability to speak Romanian certainly comes in handy. I'm glad you enjoyed my adaptations of canon material and Charlie's proactiveness, and thank you for your comments. They are always appreciated, and I apologise for being so slow to update.

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Minister of Bucharest**

"Charlie, wake up," a female's voice interrupted a blank dream while a hand prodded his shoulder until his eyelids fluttered into the day-lit world. "Wake up. We've entered the city."

Opening his eyes slowly, the brown irises tried to adjust to the new light, rendering him temporarily blind as beams streamed in. With one hand Charlie shaded his eyes while shapes and colours started to move into focus and take the forms of steel grey buildings that they whizzed by in the car window. It had been a dark early morning in the countryside when he had fallen asleep, making his awakening all the more rewarding to know they had reached their destination.

With a small smile as he put his hand back down he turned from the window towards the gentle prodding fingers that had awoken him, knowing full well who had been sitting next to him when he'd dozed off hours ago. Expecting to see a pair of green eyes looking back at him, it came as a surprise to see a set of hawk-like brown ones behind a pair of glasses instead.

"Shalom," Tamara greeted, handing him a piece of toast. "Abby, he's awake."

"Good," the voice Charlie had expected to hear replied from the distant driver's seat. Leaning to the side, nearly putting his head into Tamara's lap, he could see the pair of emerald-coloured eyes staring back at him in the tiny mirror between the passenger and driver.

"Make a left," Abby's Bulgarian passenger instructed, pointing out the direction with a casual wave of his hand.

With a nod of her head, the driver assured they were in the proper lane to turn their vehicle as Simeon cocked his head to face those behind him. Dressed in a completely black Muggle suit and dark mirrored sunglasses, Charlie couldn't help but believe that the friend sitting at the head of the van was a secret Unspeakable about to interrogate the five other occupants of the inescapable enclosed space. The darkly dressed man only gave a simple bob of his head before resuming his gaze to traffic, signalling the journey was near an end.

Clearing her throat, the woman sitting next to Charlie immediately began what appeared to be a pre-arranged Muggle-orientation speech, going through the highly detailed basics of avoiding certain words and appearing natural as a box of dark sunspecs was passed around the other five passengers and driver. Everyone took a pair and placed them before their eyes, completing their Muggle attired looks of dark-coloured business suits that wouldn't have been out of place in the business district of any major city.

"Any violation of these rules breaks the strict regulations of wizard secrecy," Tamara wound down the long introduction just as Charlie began to really listen, "and is a punishable offence. The last thing we need is someone needing a disciplinary hearing."

"Ve're here," Simeon announced to the backseat before anyone could roll their eyes behind the dark glasses.

All eyes veered to the right side of the van, peering out the tinted windows to gaze at the building that served the Romanian government as well as the Romanian Ministry of Magic, Palatul Victoria. The national flag of blue, yellow and red columns flew from four staffs in front as well as atop of the beige structure, standing proudly on the backdrop. Rays of sunlight reflected off the many windows, masking the important people inside from the busy city. At the entrance to a driveway was an iron gate accompanied by a lone guard, doing his watch job much like the people gazing from the van.

"Not this gate," Simeon instructed, noticing the slight twist in Abby's hand as if she were going to direct the vehicle in that way. "Next one."

A simple nod was the only response to his order, the van pressing forward a few more metres down the road before turning into another driveway behind some majestic pine trees. There another lone guard was stationed at an identical iron gate. At the sight of the approaching car, he got to work and strode towards the driver's side.

Simeon quickly pushed a button sitting between the driver and passenger that allowed the window to slowly recede downward into the door. Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out a wallet-sized folder and handed it to Abby before the guard had them in his view. On reaching the window, the female driver had already opened it to flash the gold badge. Without a single word, the guard turned back to his station and opened the gate for the van to pass into the parking lot.

"All right then," Tamara unbuckled her seatbelt and stood as tall as she could given the height of the van while Abby yanked the gearshift in order to squeeze into a small space in the shadow of the building, "you all know what to do."

The car halted in the tight space, the two cars on either side having shrunk in order to admit them. Everyone unbuckled and one by one the backseat emptied of the occupying wizards and witch, all of them filing out of the van and straightening their dark attire as if they had arrived for work by carpool. One motion of a hand got the group of seven to follow Simeon towards the nearest door in a silent march, walking into the government building without hesitation.

From there, the group inconspicuously divided. Tamara headed towards a corridor of elevators with three others on her heels as Simeon led Charlie and Abby up a tall flight of stone stairs; passing many Muggles whom conversed amongst themselves with black leather folders, closed briefcases, and cups filled with hot drinks in their hands. None of the people thought twice to give the trio a closer look, all of them too immersed in government business of their own to glance in that general direction.

Reaching a third landing and another set of glass doors marked with Romanian words, Simeon did not pause before leading the way through them and past the reception desk with no more than a nod. Forcing into a single file they went down a corridor lined with offices, each one marked with a different name in bold black to identify the occupant, as sounds of foreign tongues floated out from the gaps beneath the doors. Squeezing by bureaucrats, the three walked straight to the end of the hallway to a door marked: Emilian Zolnerowich. Simeon opened the office door, holding it open long enough the three of them to step in before he locked it behind them. The other four members of their Order already stood waiting in the small windowless and white office space, consisting only of a single desk, chair, filing cabinet and plastic plant.

At the click of the lock, Tamara crouched to the floor, pulling out the bottom drawer to the desk and removing a microphone attached to a stand. She took the mouthpiece and held it out to the man beside her, Mikhail Volkov. A flick of her finger turned it on. Allowing it to admit some static for a moment, she nodded to Mikhail and without delay his own foreign language filled the space for one long sentence.

"Velcome to the Ministry of Magic," a clear recording-like voice rang throughout the room once Mikhail had concluded. The carpeted floor of the office gave a sudden shudder as if they were in a lift going upwards. "Visitors, as you are transported to the reception area, please note that you must stop at the reception desk for vand examination as vell as to receive an access pass. You will not be admitted without either of these procedures. Have a nice day."

Charlie stumbled and clutched the filing cabinet, the lift shifting and jerking at sudden intervals as it ascended towards the Ministry. Looking about the office lift the others had also taken refuge from the movements by grabbing pieces of furniture, with the exception of Tamara and Simeon. It was evident that the lift hadn't been serviced in some time, badly needing of smoothness charm reinforcement, and the Order was quite pleased when the motion ceased and the door swung open on its own desire, allowing them to get out of the enclosed space into the Romanian Ministry of Magic.

Brilliantly lit, three of the walls surrounding were entirely glass windows in which the entire skyline of Bucharest, from the tallest skyscraper to the mountains in the North, could be seen. The white tiled floor gleamed by the light of the sun streaming in from all directions while the ceiling reflected a view of the solar system, the planets revolving around the young yellow star as the signs of the celestial zodiac circled them. A few metres away from the office lift was a long curved desk, where a single brunette woman sat looking thoroughly bored as she ushered for the group to come to her as a fierce security goblin with a glistening spear in hand shot them a nasty look.

The woman spoke in rapid Romanian as they approached, and though it was incomprehensible to the majority of them it was simple enough to follow in Simeon and Mikhail's example in removing their sunglasses and laying down their wands for inspection. Mikhail spoke on all their behalf, identifying each of their group members to the receptionist as she created individual access passes for the lot. Once each pass hung from someone's jacket like a luggage tag, the wands were passed back and the intense gaze of the goblin stepped back a few paces to allow the members to pass. The receptionist snapped her fingers seven times in quick procession, and seven area rugs whizzed out from behind the desk and lined up before the Order.

"Easiest method of transport within the Ministry," Mikhail translated the receptionist's Romanian words as he stepped up and sat at the centre of the Oriental rug in front of him. "Quite comfortable, actually."

At that suggestion, the others approached their carpets. Charlie boarded onto a larger red one, feeling the soft rug adjust beneath his weight and conform to the shape of his derriere. Mikhail hasn't kidded when he mentioned it was comfortable. By far, it was better than straddling a broom.

Once they had all mounted, the carpets took off with a jolt, leading the procession of seven rugs from the reception desk and up a long dark tube at the only wall not made of windows. The single light at the end of the tunnel grew wider quickly, speeding the Order through quicker than the lift had. Within seconds, they had emerged at the other end where it looked as though they had entered a completely different space.

The high-beamed ceiling was ideal for flying through and there were many workers at the Ministry who seemed to agree as they soared over a sea of cubicles. Groundling wizards and witches rushed about beneath the flying carpets, taking no notice to them as it was part of a natural day, while passing office gossip along with black and green-coloured file folders. Carpets carrying wizards zipped in and out of vestibules along the walls, each hallway signifying a different Department of the government. There was no time to linger in awe at the massive energy below as the carpets continued on the journey and swerved to the end of the large cubical area and down a well-lit corridor.

In the limited hall space, the Order flew by single file, racing above office doors. By luck no one else, on ground or on carpet, seemed to be occupying the corridor allowing the seven to speed by without having to stop and let another pass. The rugs took them right to the end, where the corridor ended and opened into a circular area with a desk in front of a closed door marked: Emilian Zolnerowich: Minister of Magic.

"_Buna dimineata_," a head popped up from behind the desk belonging to a dark-haired woman with a large smile. "_Ma numesc Rodika Sokoll. Pot sa va ajut_?"

Mikhail responded to the perky young lady, leaving Simeon to translate the speech for the rest of the group. "Good morning. My name is Rodika Sokoll. Can I help you?"

"Oh, you speaking English!" Rodika exclaimed at the words coming from Simeon's mouth, standing at her desk to reveal her bright green and gold embellished robes. "And you here to see the Mr Zolnerowich! He be ready for you soon. Please, seat."

Dismounting the carpets was a task trickier than getting on. With the flex of weight and constant adjustment in trying to come down, the only solution for the men was to jump off while the two ladies slid forward to land on their feet. Once free of their passengers, the carpets lay still on the floor, inanimate and waiting for the next snap to duty.

The Order members couldn't bring themselves to sit, all seven of them standing in the waiting area in relative silence. Matthew and Shane began to absently pace around the room, unconvincingly attempting to look at artwork on the walls with consistent glancing down at their watches. Mikhail and Tamara stood against a bare patch of wall looking over the notes that had been produced from Tamara's wand while Simeon looked as though he were standing asleep in the middle of it all, unflinching. Abby's arms were crossed over her dark grey pants suit, her front teeth biting down on her lower lip as Charlie watched her a short distance from the reception desk.

"Can't really get more direct than this," Charlie whispered so only Abby could hear, giving her a small smile in the hope it would be contagious.

The grin on her face fleeted quickly, but it had appeared for the brief seconds that it did. Two fingers brushed against Abby's ear, pushing hair back and tucking it behind gently as the lips belonging to the same party planted a kiss on her forehead before moving down to the tip of her nose. "Don't be nervous."

"Same to you."

A click of the door alerted the entire room to Rodika as she pushed it open and gestured with her wand. "The Minister is ready for you now."

Charlie felt a gob of saliva slide down his throat, his brain unaware that he had even swallowed in the first place as his mind raced ahead of him. Looking back to the rest of the Order, they all nodded in unison. Stepping forward together, they went through the door slowly and closely knit.

The office of the Minister was unlike one Charlie had ever seen before, and he had once been to the office of renowned eccentric Auror, Alastor Moody. Lit only by the dancing flames of a fireplace and floating candles above their heads, velvet drapes drawn over the long windows, the room's lush colours of crimson, violet, and gold seemed all the more decadent. Portraits of old wizards lined the walls, all following the small group of seven intently with their shadowy eyes without uttering a single word between painted lips. A large circle of armchairs sat before a desk, where a middle-aged man in navy blue robes sat with a cup of tea in his hands, gently letting small puffs of his breath cool the drink.

"Velcome," the man greeted kindly, standing in his seat and placing his cup and saucer down. At his full height, the man was small in stature. The top of his head supported a thinning layer of black hair that extended down into a thin sharp beard and distinguished moustache on his face. Twinkling out of place, his eyes gave off a softer glow than his harsher features, adding a welcomed slight ease to the Order members. "Ah, you are the people from the Dragon Reserve. Nice to see you again, Ms Cohen."

Tamara nodded politely, holding out her hand to be shaken. "It is good to see you as well, Minister."

"Vell, please be seated and ve shall get down to your business," the Minister for Magic gestured, seating himself again as the Order found places to plant themselves in the nearest armchairs. Cups of tea floated into their empty hands from the surface of the lone desk before them, barely a ripple being made in the hot liquid. "You know vell that I am alvays ready to hear of progress and research at the reserve. It is a national pride of magical Romania to be responsible for caring for such beasts. Vhat is your purpose today? Trouble? Funding? Vorking visas for new recruits? Normally Mr Vilde only sends Tamara for such matters. Must be something very important today."

"Trouble would be the appropriate category to place this meeting," Tamara put eloquently, balancing her cup of tea on the arm of her sturdy chair. "We come in a most dire time, Mr Zolnerowich, but it has little to do with the reserve. I'm sorry for booking an appointment in the name of the reserve, but it was the quickest way to speak to you face to face. I do hope you will understand."

"We represent the Order of the Phoenix," Charlie spoke up, grabbing the attention of the Minister and all the portraits around him, "an organization against the rising of You-Know-Who in the United Kingdom. I'm sure you have heard the news from the newspapers and such."

"I have," Mr Zolnerowich nodded solemnly, looking down at his cup of tea and stirring in another lump of fine white sugar. "It is a tremendous tragedy, and my sympathy to the country as vell as the people."

"There are other ways to help, Minister," Matthew interjected, bowing his head in addressing the important government figure. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is already causing much havoc in the nation. There is a need for allies in any form. It is not just a war in the United Kingdom."

"Vhat exactly are you all proposing to me?" the Minister asked, looking out towards the Order members with his eyebrows narrowing. "Keep short, for there are other businesses to tend to. My schedule is tight."

"We ask for nothing specific," Abby added in her voice, treading carefully in her words, "only that your support goes against You-Know-Who."

"Even if just a kind word of support to Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic in London," Shane put in his own words. "This is a time when wizards have to stand united against a common evil."

"Anything helps, sir," said Mikhail, nearly spilling his tea onto the lush carpeting as he quickly leaned forward in the armchair. "It is a small price to pay for peace over the entire globe."

Mr Zolnerowich raised his hand, calling for silence amongst the small group that was given immediately. At the end of the chatter, he brought his tea up to his lips and took a long drink, seeming unusually calm considering all that had been said as he drained all the contents. Placing his cup back down on the desk, he leaned back in his chair, his hands folded on his knees as if in deep silent thought for only a moment.

"You all argue vell," he began, tilting his head to one side. "My sympathy is certainly with your country in its time of great need and I commend your more than noble efforts. However, Romania is unable to extend its hand to England at this moment. My people have found much struggle in choosing sides of a var, and ve choose to no longer do so in such events. Ve vill remain neutral. Please understand. It is not our var to be involved in. I am afraid ve cannot help you."

"But Mr Zolnerowich…" Charlie started to speak.

"Rodika," the Minister called out for his personal assistant, the dark-haired woman scampering quickly into the office room. "Kindly see these people out, and back to the visitor entrance. I have a Department meeting shortly, and I must compose thoughts before it. I am sorry that I cannot see you out myself."

"_Da Minister_," Rodika responded right away with a ladylike curtsy to her boss, smiling to the Order. "Come. I shall summon the carpets to see you out."

The seven rose and began to file out behind Rodika as she snapped her fingers for the flying rugs. Before the door could close, Charlie peered back into the office, watching Emilian Zolnerowich closely as he stood from his seat and turned towards his drawn curtains, his back to the Order of the Phoenix.

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**A/N:** This chapter has had so many rewrites and has been edited more than a few times, so I think I need to point that out. At first it moved so slow through the description, so it has been cut a few times and details I didn't find necessary were deleted to combat the pacing issue. Then I cut dialogues too near the beginning. There was a lot more there, but then it felt silly so that was cut.

Regardless, I hope this brief tour of the Romanian Ministry of Magic was fun. I tried to make it a little different from London's Ministry, but there's only so much you can change.

There are some language things in here, one was translated in text, and I think it's easy to conclude that "Da" means yes.

The model for Emilian Zolnerowich was Al Pacino.

I hope I still have your attention after my one month hiatus. Sorry. Life gets in the way of writing.


	6. Chapter Five: Herastrau Park

**teacher123:** Hello again! Um...I guess this update isn't really...soon. Better late than never I suppose. I do apologise for the lateness, but life calls.

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**Chapter Five: Herastrau Park**

City streets had filled with kilometres of traffic by the time the group had made their way back into the car and begun the journey back to their mountain hideaway. Drivers in all directions were honking horns and slandering each other in foreign tongues from their windows; frustrated with the late morning roads. Fists shook wildly as trafficking policemen attempted to restore order and get everyone to their destinations without injury. Though the roar of city life was raging all around the outside of the minivan, the interior of the vehicle with Simeon at the wheel was a chamber of total silence.

With a blend of exhaustion from the long night's drive and the morning disappointments no one dared to make eye contact with the others around, fearing what they could see in their co-workers: a mirror to their own thoughts. As eyelids drooped, jackets and ties discarded to the floor, and heads tilted back into the headrests, there was no need for a conversation to begin amongst them, nor was anyone willing to start it off. Quietness dominated their space, and everyone seemed fine with it as traffic slowly dragged along bringing them closer to home only inch-by-inch and allowed them to drift into needed naps.

Charlie's eyes had only closed for three minutes before a complete stop jolted the entire car awake and alert with Mikhail and Matthew both drawing their wands in response. Everyone in the van looked straight ahead, peering past Simeon in the driver's seat and out the window to the hood, where tiny streams of smoke were rising from the cracks it could escape from.

Simeon quickly stopped the engine, unbuckled the seatbelt and got himself out of the car. He walked over to the hood, raising it up and allowing the rest of the smoke to escape, clouding the window from view so everyone else had to pile out into the heavily trafficked street to see what the matter was. Fanning the smoke away with open palms, the Order peered into the engine, wondering what was causing the problem.

"What's the matter with it?" Tamara broke the silence between everyone at last, bringing her voice above the rest of the street noise.

"Are ve out of gas?" suggested Mikhail, giving the fan belt a hard intense look.

"Check the brakes," Shane blurted out.

Suggestions from the few flowed with the rest of the loud street as Simeon stared at the metal before him, not daring to touch the smouldering pieces as the last of the smoke wisped into the air. Ahead of them, Charlie noted that the cars had begun to move forward on the road, the traffic light having changed colour, while those cars behind them only got louder in their Romanian cursing and horn blasting. For once he wished the reserve's auto expert and most insufferably bossy dragon keeper, Valerie Walters, were with them.

"Just give it a 'Reparo' spell and let's be on our way," Matthew sighed, moving for the wand hidden up his sleeve.

"No!" Abby grabbed Matthew's hand before he could reach the giveaway item of wizard-kind. "Muggles are looking."

The Order instantly snapped into attention, diverting their gaze from the engine to the masses of people looking and yelling at them, some driving around the side to give them even nastier looks. It was clear that magic was not an option on such a street, and that they would be headed nowhere fast unless they could figure out what had made the car stop.

It only took a moment before two traffic policemen came up to the group of seven, speaking in rapid Romanian with straight lips. As Mikhail explained in his own tongue, the two men stepped closer to the engine, giving it a glance over themselves as if to make sure they had really broken down in the middle of the street and were not just halting for a frustrating fiesta. Nodding towards one another, one got out a walkie-talkie and spoke while the other redirected traffic around the van.

"What's happening?" Charlie asked as his roommate nodded along with the conversation of the two policemen. "What are they saying?"

"They say they are calling a mechanic to come and take the car to his shop," Simeon explained plainly with a sigh. "He is only a few blocks avay, and it should not take long."

* * *

It took a half-hour for the auto mechanic to arrive with his truck, and more time to get to his repair shop and have the minivan looked over in full. From there, they learned from Mikhail's translation that it would be at least another few hours, giving the mechanic time to get the needed work done on the vehicle. It wasn't an expensive procedure, but a tedious one, and there would be a few hours to kill in Bucharest. Beneath their breaths, nearly everyone was muttering something about wishing Valerie had been there to fix the van.

"We'd all better get something to eat," Tamara suggested, ending all their mumbling. "It's about time for lunch and I saw a small restaurant around the corner from here."

Charlie hadn't heard what was being said about the van and lunch, peering out the window of the mechanic's dull little waiting room towards the large park across the street. Against the backdrop of the far off Transylvanian Alps and the blue sky, it looked like something off a postcard from a tourist stop. Though his stomach was interested in the conversation of lunch and his eyes were fixed upon the fascinating view, his mind was not thinking about either.

"Charlie," Abby's voice drew him away from the window, her hand touching his shoulder as the rest of the group stood a few metres away. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he responded absently, giving his lady the smile he believed she sought.

"Well, come on then." Shane gestured for the couple to follow along with the other five as they made for the exit through the garage. "We'll 'ead over to that restaurant that Tamara was talkin' 'bout."

"Oh, go ahead," replied Charlie as he walked backward to the front door beside the window, "I'm not really hungry. I think I'll just go for a walk."

Without another beat Charlie had disappeared out the door, jingling the chimes that hung overhead as he made his quick escape. Jogging across the oddly quiet street, he went through a large iron arch that marked the green land he entered as Herastrau Park. The mid-July sun beat down with full force in the open park, making him instantly hot so the sleeves of his white collared shirt had to be rolled up to his elbows to maintain some comfort. There were tall trees and dewy grass to take cover in lining the paved pathway sporadically, but the things in his mind wouldn't go away with just lying about in shade. He would have to walk them off.

He began to take long strides as he walked the paved walkway, passing mothers out with young children, sweaty joggers with large dogs, and the elderly who took leisure in the natural beauty within boundaries of the city. With summer flowers in full bloom all around in their neat patches, the park was filled with a vibrant colour as he walked towards a large glistening lake. Sunbeams were reflecting off the surface of the water and illuminated the activity of picnics and cheerful families in the vicinity, all of who were unaware of the young man standing on the path in silence before the lake as if he were a stone statue set there for eternity.

It was a single hand that appeared on his shoulder that brought his still body to life again, making him jump and spin around. His eyes whizzed around with the rest of his body, blurring the view of the beautiful park until they made a half turn around to face what had touched him.

"I'm not really that hungry either," the figure facing him spoke softly, looking directly at Charlie with warm grassy-green eyes.

Abby began to walk ahead of him along the lake path past the people sitting in grass and enjoying the day out. Her hands tucked neatly into the pockets of her dark grey pressed pants with just her thumbs sticking out as she trotted slowly waiting for Charlie to catch up and take his place beside her, which only took a few seconds. The two walked alongside of each other, momentarily letting no words or glances exchange. Though seemingly awkward to the few people who took notice to the couple, not holding hands, speaking or even looking at each other, it was a necessary act for both parties.

"We shouldn't be discouraged by this," Abby finally broke the silence, though her eyes looked away and into the large lake they had begun to circle. "We spoke to the Minister, and he made his choice on behalf of his government. We tried our best in the limited time he gave us."

"I know," Charlie nodded, looking down to the pavement briefly.

"I guess telling ourselves that bit isn't going to make us any less disappointed by the results."

"Not really."

A swivel of her neck brought Abby's eyes to look in Charlie's direction, her hand removing itself from her pocket and carefully placing itself on his shoulder. The gentle touch of her Healer hands made him look back at her with his brown eyes as they walked, finally appearing as though they were a real couple to the people around them as Abby's hand moved down and weaved itself into his arm so they trotted in unison.

"I know that we tried and the only real failure would have been to not try in the first place," said Charlie, speaking the familiar encouraging lines as he turned and faced forward again, "but it's difficult to disregard those words given the situation is trying to gain support to fight a war."

"It's understandable," Abby replied gently through tight lips. "But we did try and that should count for something, Charlie."

Another silence came between the two walkers as a small group of cyclists bypassed them. Walking by a small restaurant where several people were enjoying a leisurely late lunch, there was an empty bench facing the lake just off of the gravel path and a fair distance away from the eatery's crowded patio. Though no words were exchanged, they simultaneously took a seat, gazing across the lake towards the thickly forested area of the park beyond the shimmering waters.

"I don't think I ever imagined I would live to see another wizard war," Charlie confessed keeping his eyes on the towering evergreen trees as Abby turned her head to look at his glazed expression. "I don't think the idea was even a remote possibility."

"You were young when the First War happened," pointed out Abby, resting her forehead on an open palm as her elbow leaned on the back of the wooden park bench.

"Just a child," the redhead responded, "but I remember it."

His eyes didn't meet with Abby's as he spoke, continuing to look straightforward as if the water's sun-streaked shine had put him into a deep dream-like trance. Keeping her wide eyes focused on him, she listened intently as he pressed on after a short pause.

"My mother lost her two older brothers in the war. The Death Eaters got to them before they could get to the Death Eaters."

"I'm sorry," Abby uttered automatically in response though Charlie barely heard her condolence.

"I was only five," he went on in a daze. "We were going to their home for Easter. We had to travel in a car because Mum was eight months pregnant with Fred and George. She refused to travel by any other means. Bill, Percy and I were in the backseat, and Dad drove all they way from Ottery St. Catchpole to Nottinghamshire. We came over a hill and were getting close. Once we were over the hill…we could see the Dark Mark."

The knuckles of Charlie's hands had gone white, both of them gripping the edge of the bench tightly as though he were hanging on for his life. Had they not already been sitting, Abby was sure that Charlie would have gone weak in the knees or been shaking, as she was sure she would be in his situation.

"Dad pulled over in the car a fair distance away, and said he was going to investigate. Mum protested, and started to cry, which started Percy. Nonetheless, Dad went toward the house and inside, and Mum only cried more. I don't know what came over me, but I opened the door to the car and ran after my dad. Mum was screaming for Bill to stop me, but Percy was between us so there was nothing he could do about it.

"I ran all the way to the house, and I saw everything once I stepped in. My uncles were dead, undoubtedly at the hand of the killing curse. Uncle Fabian was sitting against the farthest wall, next to the fireplace, and Uncle Gideon was slumped over the piano bench. There were other bodies around the room, all of them masked like skeletons. I could hear my dad speaking to a Ministry person through a fire in another room, and then he came in and saw me, just looking at him. I don't think I ever saw him look as worried as he did in that split second before taking me back out to mum."

With the story done, Charlie's hands relaxed, the whiteness leaving his knuckles and the glaze beginning to fade from his hazel eyes. He finally turned his head, bringing himself to look at his stunned girlfriend as her tongue sought words for him that did not exist.

"I'm so sorry," her automated sympathy response came out again for lack of anything better to say. "I can't even begin to imagine…"

"It's not something you or anyone should try to imagine," Charlie responded right away, not letting her finish the thought. "But I learned from seeing what I did in the First War. Death is inevitable. The point is to make your life count for something. My uncles did that by taking down as many Death Eaters as they could while knowing they would lose their own lives in the process. Today, what I attempted didn't succeed in making anything count."

"You can't think like that Charlie," Abby came back with a new height of volume in her voice as she took both of Charlie's hands into hers. "You're going to drive yourself mad if you do. You made life count by putting your passion out onto the table for the Minister to see, and taking that risk whether there was success or failure."

Abby's hands tightened as they gripped the ones not belonging to her, her own knuckles turning white before Charlie's eyes. The tight pressure of her touch made him shudder, the last of the mist in his eyes vanishing as he jolted as if awakening suddenly. Glancing up from her hands 

to her eyes, there was a glint of something hiding beneath her fiery pupils and the lower eyelid. In a mere blink it had disappeared, but the intensity of her gaze had not faltered.

"Everything counts," she started again, her hold finally beginning to loosen. "You said so yourself that it may not be obvious, but everyone does their part."

Releasing one hand from his, she brought up her fingers to touch his cheek. The pads of her index, middle and ring fingers brushed against him lightly, the index tracing his lower lip.

"You should listen to your own words now and then," she said, giving him the glance of her smile. "They're good words."

In a single swift motion, she swooped her head towards him and planted her lips onto his. Charlie could instantly feel his spine weaken as if it were made of melted wax as his hands found their own way to her cheek. Through closed eyes, neither of them noticed the few people from the patio watching them kiss and remarking at how sweet they looked from afar even after they had come apart.

"We should probably head back to the garage," Charlie suggested, rising from the bench while holding out one hand to aid Abby to her feet. "Maybe the van will be fixed by now."

His companion only nodded as she pulled herself up by the help of his hand. Giving her pants a quick brush, Abby prepared to walk when Charlie stopped moving and turned to her.

"Actually, hold that thought," he said, looking about where they were standing. "Wait a moment for me."

With that said, he made a beeline towards a set of restrooms next to the eatery, leaving Abby standing at the bench as he went in through a large metal door. Taking her seat again, she looked back out over the shining lake and the large pine trees against the backdrop of the summer's day, sighing at the scene before something strange appeared, emerging from the trees and into open air.

It was a distance away across the lake, and obscure at first in the shadow of the forest, but there was little mistaking it for anything but a beastly creature once it had come into the sunlight for anyone to see plainly. The head resembled a young dragon, the sharp snout being a telling sign, but the body suggested the creature was a starving horse, skin sticking to its bones as though it had been deprived of food for many weeks. It took only a few steps in the daylight, unseen by the cyclists and joggers, before stretching out a pair of bat-like leathery wings, taking flight into the trees tops and disappearing from sight.

Abby's blood ran cold, her eyes fixed on the sight where the Thestral had vanished.

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**A/N:** I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking so very long to update this fanfiction. I really don't have any other excuse than I haven't been writing lately. My mind just hasn't been able to write of the late, so I haven't even really thought about it. So for that, anyone reading this note, I am sorry.

Okay, some thank yous to make. Two people from Phoenix Prophecy helped out with this chapter from long ago (yes, I wrote this some time ago, but my mind wasn't up to editing either), and I need to acknowledge them. Diana (sirius star at PP) lives in Bucharest and was kind enough to provide a bit of insight into Herastrau Park, an actual place in Romania. I have never been, so she nicely helped out with that. Secondly was Rachael (sweetpea) who BETA-ed a part of this chapter due to some concerns I had over it. She not only critiqued it, but she did it promptly. Thank you both.

The death of the Prewetts...J.K. Rowling never specified precisely how it happened, but I used some traits of Arthur and Molly to create it. Specifically there's Molly's deep fear of familial death, and Arthur's very sharp description of finding a Dark Mark. Yes, I know Arthur wasn't supposed to rush into a house like that...but that was his error of concern. Charlie's too.

I debated with myself over who got to follow Charlie and have this deep conversation: Simeon or Abby. Abby won in the end. Do you think I made the right choice? I won't change it, but I'd like to know what readers think of that idea.

Again. Sorry. Thank you for enduring if you have for this long. It's appreciated.


	7. Chapter Six: Mentorship and Meetings

**teacher123:** I'm glad you liked the last chapter and are supportive of the choice of adding Abby instead of Simeon. I hope this got up quick enough for you.

**Narothan:** Thank you for your recent messages and flattery over this story. I hope you continue to enjoy.

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**Chapter Six: Mentorship and Meetings**

_To: Charlie G. Weasley_

_Re: Training of New Recruits_

_It is my duty to inform that you have been selected from the staff to train a new member of our international team for this year. The recruit and mentorship program is a pride of the reserve and is used for all new people starting at our dragon reserve as dragon keepers and researchers._

_The new recruits will begin orientation on August 24__th__. It is customary for the recruits to meet with their mentor at a welcoming brunch that day at 11 o'clock in the common lounge and commence job shadowing at your following shift. If you have a shift on the day of the 24__th__, you are exempt from duty for the day in order to meet your recruit._

_If there are any further questions regarding the mentorship, feel free to direct them to me during the day at my office._

_Thank you for your support in helping new members of our team become acquainted with their surroundings. _

_Sincerely yours, _

_Herbert Kenneth Wilde_

_Proprietor of Romania International Dragon Reserve_

Charlie scanned over the letter for the third time that morning, checking the date and time were correct before returning the parchment paper to its home for the past weeks: his pants pocket. It wasn't difficult to remember those two things considering the fact that countless signs were hanging on walls around the reserve to keep staff aware of the event, but the redheaded dragon keeper had taken the extra precaution of carrying around a constant reminder. Thoughts about his job and the upcoming training of a new recruit kept him focused, not allowing it to wander into thoughts he had promised he would not dwell on.

"'Eh Charlie," a strong voice called him as the letter disappeared into his pocket.

Throwing a glance over his left shoulder, Gustavo Garcia came into view with one hand in the air flagging down his co-worker and his younger sister, Lupe, at his side. The sibling pair jogged together through the hall in sync with each other's movements, as though they had rehearsed stepping together in time like dancers. Coming up on either side of Charlie, only Gustavo came to a halt by placing his hand on his fellow keeper's shoulder while Lupe kept going ahead of her brother.

"You headed to see the new recruits arriving?" Gustavo asked wiping the light perspiration off of his forehead with the backside of his hand.

"I'll be meeting the lot at the brunch," the redhead replied as he scratched his nose lightly. "So I don't really need to…"

"You know the tradition," his Spanish friend interrupted, taking a few steps forward with his arm still around Charlie. "Every time as the fresh meat walks through the doors, everyone else must look down from second floor. It is fun."

With no other words, Gustavo began to lead Charlie in the direction that Lupe had vanished into, the two dragon keepers walking towards the front of the building. The sound of a crowd forming began to overtake the corridor, the noise soon materialising into the people with their heads hanging out of open windows or pressed against the glass to get a good view of the driveway. By luck Lupe had secured a spot at the staircase window directly above the front door and ushered her brother and Charlie to her place.

"Just in time," she told them as they squeezed past fellow co-workers. She gently brushed her ponytail of black hair to the left side of her face. "The bus is just pulling up."

Sure enough, Lupe's words were dead on target as a plain white bus large enough for thirty people drove up the road. The reflective windows prevented the lot from having a good look at any of the occupants as the vehicle turned to its profile side and stopped.

The crowd of people overlooking the ground hushed, waiting with baited breath for the new arrivals to pile out of the vehicle. Herb appeared from directly below, trotting right up to the doors of the bus in order to greet his newest employees with strong firm handshakes as he always did. Very slowly, the doors of the bus shuddered open, allowing the new recruits to enter their new home with hundreds of eyes on them.

Two young ladies hopped out first, neither of them taking notice of the many people staring down at them as they shook hands with Herb and took their personal luggage straight into the building. A few whispers from nearby began to flow through the crowd, covering the important topic of which was preferred: golden-red blonde or chocolate brunette.

Next was a broad-shouldered man carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder as he exited the bus. Sporting a thick moustache and stubbly beard, he looked older than he likely was. Soon enough, the facial hair would have to vanish for the job's demands, but it didn't stop a few catcalls from the researching women.

"By Merlin's pants, let there be more of those," Lupe purred with a glimmer in her eyes that her older brother had luckily failed to notice.

Another person landed on solid ground with a valise in hand. Unlike the male who had come down a moment ago, this recruit looked like a teenager. In a small frame was a young man, looking awkward in his boyish build and pressed grey pants accompanied with a blue tie over a white shirt, perhaps prepared more for a day at an office than a dragon reserve. He was quick to take Herb's hand and give it two firm shakes, before turning his attention to the crowd watching him with judgemental eyes.

"Another man for the Research Department," Gustavo commented as the boy marched out of sight. "About time. Hasn't been a new guy since Seth Johansson left."

Eyes had returned to the set of doors where the new people had been appearing, which closed as the driver pulled away and towards the garage. The quiet whispers and hushed voices suddenly found themselves drowned out by an expected wave of volume.

"Four! Only four new recruits this year!"

The rise of voices formed into groups, many of the watchers turning to their neighbours and friends to talk about the sudden sharp decline in recruitment and how in previous years it took at least ten minutes for the white bus to empty completely. With the window area no longer a necessary component for their morning activity, everyone started to trickle away: researchers heading back for their labs and offices as the dragon keepers went off to find ways to amuse themselves before the shift change.

After the mass exodus, only Simeon and Charlie were left standing at opposite ends of the stairway corridor.

"That's something, isn't it?" Charlie said in an attempt to make conversation with the quiet roommate he hadn't seen against the crowd. "I don't think we've ever seen such few recruits at one time…other than when you were orientated on your own, but that wasn't an official session."

"It is no surprise," the Bulgarian replied, his dark bangs covering his eyes as he cocked his head in a gesture for Charlie to follow him as he walked down the stairs.

"What do you mean?" questioned Charlie as he caught up with his roommate, his mind mulling over the puzzle of how his friend nearly always managed to have information. "What do you know, Simeon?"

"I know Herb approved many to come," his friend responded casually, his hands placing themselves in the pockets of his pants, "and many are from other countries."

In only one sentence from the Bulgarian's mouth, the mystery was making sense.

"Herb sent avay for the vorking visas, but the Ministry did not respond," Simeon continued to explain as the two walked into the entrance area. "He sent Tamara, but she could not get audience with anyone who could help. The recruits are locals."

Charlie heaved a sigh, bowing his head low as he fell behind his roommate's pace. A dull weighty pain began to throb inside him, as though someone had hit him squarely in the chest with a Bludger, and the same Quidditch ball had chained itself to his ribs. Thoughts that had dwelled in the corners of his head flooded as if to drown his brain. The promise of avoiding such thoughts could no longer take place, the shame of his failure weeks before returning at a full force.

"You still blame yourself for vat happened at the Ministry," Simeon spoke again, halted in his tracks as he waited for Charlie to catch up, though he did not look back.

His friend didn't respond, continuing to walk past Simeon as though he hadn't heard the words biting into his ears. With his body weighted down by the throb in his chest, he couldn't move fast enough as Simeon walked three steps behind him.

"You cannot place blame," his fellow dragon keeper began in a casual monotone voice as he tailed Charlie towards the mess hall. "It is politics. The government does it all the time. Both Vorld Vars they vere neutral to start."

Charlie continued to pull himself in a forward motion, acting as though the co-worker's words were falling on deaf ears. Though his legs propelled him, there was little sense as to where they were going other than hoping it would leave behind the new emotion bubbling in pit of his stomach: anger.

"Not all is vell in this country," Simeon continued, carrying the conversation on his own for the first time Charlie had ever known. "Var is not something they vould vant to engage in. It has been that vay since before Ceausescu fell. These are hard times."

"You don't need to justify it, Simeon," Charlie finally spoke, not ceasing his walk or bothering to face his supposed friend. "Don't try. It doesn't take away the fact that everything we did came in vain."

"I am not justifying this," corrected the Bulgarian indifferently. "But you cannot go on pretending in front of people, encouraging them vhen you have lost hope."

The last words spoken finally caused the two to halt in the corridor and Charlie to turn around and face the voice that had trailed him for the past few minutes. The heat in his stomach had been increasing, and threatened to boil over as his fingers tingled with the idea of releasing his power. His wand sat still in his back pocket, but he didn't need that to unleash his burning fury. Slowly it simmered in him as he stared at the dark man only a metre away, maintaining a bubbling effect though sinking back into the lowest part of his chest.

"I'll see you later," the redhead said, walking backwards from the heated zone he was in. "You have shift soon and Valerie is head of the team this week. You don't want to be late or she'll have your head."

Charlie stalked off towards the mess hall leaving the darkly dressed man standing in the hall for a few seconds before he turned the other way and walked to the equipment room to prepare for his job, deciding that his duty had been done.

* * *

Thoughts of the encounter with his roommate hadn't left Charlie by the time he was sitting in the lounge and awaiting the arrival of the few new recruits. The anger in him had sunk to stability, but it still simmered as though it had been left brewing over open blue flames. He leaned back on the couch he was sitting on, resting his head so he looked up, and began to count the amount of the tiles that made up the ceiling.

He had only gone through the first two rows before the sound of the door opening made him glance sideways and see a small figure with wavy brown hair enter. For the moment, he believed there was another lecture headed his way judging by who had arrived.

"Hello Charlie," the woman beamed brightly, flashing her wide smile and two rows of lovely white teeth as she approached the seat beside the dragon keeper. "You didn't mention you were training a new person too."

"Morning Bella," Charlie greeted with a weak smile, sitting up straighter as Bella took her place beside him on the couch.

"Isn't this different, being mentors now?" Bella inquired with a giggle, smoothing out the creases of her lavender coloured sundress as she spoke. "I suppose I should have asked if you were training a new person, or should have known you'd be in the running at the least to do so. We were recruits together those five years ago after all."

Charlie gave Bella a genuine smile, thoughts of his own arrival flashing in his mind. It was hard to imagine it had been five years ago when he felt like he'd been around the reserve his whole life.

"It was so thrilling then, to be introduced to this entirely new country and line of work," continued his female friend as her dreamy eyes slipped further into her own reverie. "I spilt nearly an entire goblet of pumpkin juice on my mentor, I was so nervous about making a good impression on my first day. Hopefully my recruit isn't as clumsy as I was or we'll have quite a time in training."

"With a lot of laughs," added her old friend. "I remember when you did that at the brunch. Your mentor seemed amused once she vanished the stain."

"Yes, Emily was good to me," sighed Bella. "Shame she had to leave, but it was a good move for her career-wise. I hope I'm half as good as she was."

"You'll do fine," Charlie reassured with a gentle pat on her knee as the lounge door opened again to allow Lupe Garcia in.

There was no time for an exchange of words between the three mentors, as Lupe was followed by Herb and the four recruits that Charlie had watched get off the bus. They formed a single file as they walked into the room, first the two ladies and then the two men. All four kept their eyes on their new boss, waiting for the next set of instructions. Bella and Charlie stood up with Lupe scampering to their side, all of them ready for the tasks that were before them.

"All right now," Herb started, gathering everyone's attention with his voice and loud orange toucan shirt, "now that you four have had the brief introduction to the reserve, it's time to throw you into the work."

The four recruits eyes widened at the announcement, visible shock overcoming their faces at the thought.

"No worries, I kid," their boss laughed at the sight. "No, no. We do believe here that you'll get more out of experience than any kind of lecturing, but we'll take it all in tiny steps. And that is where these fine people…"

Herb stopped, looking with narrow eyes over to the three mentors that had assembled. He glanced to the mentors, to the recruits, and back again.

"We're missing one," he commented with a sour expression crossing his lips. "Ah well, we'll worry about that later. Anyway, that is where these fine people come in. They will be your mentors, and you will be their shadows for the following days."

The new members of the team looked up at Charlie, Bella and Lupe. Bella smiled happily and waved at the four, while Lupe made eyes for the muscular man with the stubbly beard she had set her eyes on earlier. Charlie only nodded politely as the recruits were too stiff to make any gesture back.

"If you have any questions, they're going to be the ones to ask," Herb pressed on, rubbing his own white chin stubble. "They've all been working here for many years, and have the knowledge that will help you substantially in your training. Take advantage of having them. You'll likely be asked to try things, and don't hesitate to do so. They are mentors for you because they know what you'll be facing in the world of dragons. So let's pair you all up and have a nice little bite to eat."

Pulling his wand from his pocket and giving it a flick, Herb made a full table set for eight laden with an assortment of sandwiches, salads and sweets appeared behind the recruits. The four instantly turned their heads, astonished with the casual feast that lay before them. It was simple, but it made even the fullest fed man feel the tinge of hunger deep inside his stomach.

"Bella," Herb called forward the Italian researcher.

Bella responded instantly, running to Herb's side as he ushered the first woman to approach him as well. The woman seemed shy at first, stepping meekly towards Herb and Bella while pushing the glasses up her nose and her coppery blonde braid over her shoulder. As she stepped up, she was actually taller than her mentor by several inches, but somehow the tinier Italian researcher had an intimidating effect on her.

"Mirabella Ribisi," Herb spoke touching one of Bella's shoulders before reaching for her shadow's hand. "Bianca Vasile."

Smiling the whole time, Bella instantly took Bianca's hand in hers for a firm two shakes and quickly led her off to the lunch table. There they took chairs beside each other, though not before the mentor had knocked over an empty goblet and sent cutlery to the floor, which her recruit kindly picked up for her.

The next mentor was quick to follow suite without any sign from Herb; Lupe was at her boss' side before Bella had even made it to the table. Noticing the tall and confident Spanish woman standing beside him waiting patiently, Herb ushered forward the next recruit and introduced the shorthaired brunette researcher as Denisa Albescu.

"And Charlie," Herb called forward the only male mentor as Lupe and Denisa made their way to sit with their female companions. "I suppose we'll make do without our last mentor here for now, but Mar…"

As if on cue, the lounge doors flung wide open to reveal a very red-faced Ryan Donaldson. His blonde hair was streaked with sweat, and the dirt on his green shirt told the small crowd that he had been working in the dragon's domain. He leaned exhaustedly on the wall, taking large gulps of air.

"Sorry I'm late," he announced in his thick accent, walking forward a little with an imbalanced step. "Completely forgot it was today."

"Well you're here," shrugged Herb casually with a playful shake of his head, "and that's what matters. But anyhow, Marcel?"

At the sound of his name, the clean-shaven recruit stepped forward. He nodded towards Charlie in greeting, professionally carrying himself with thrown back shoulders. Though walking straight and tall, it had little success in making him look like anything but a tall teenager. The thinness of his build gave the impression he was not made for any manual labour, and that Charlie was about to have his work cut out for him.

"Charlie Weasley, Marcel Antov," introduced their boss as the two men extended their hands to each other.

"Pleasure to meet you, Marcel," Charlie said politely as he gave his new shadow's hand a shake.

"The pleasure, it is mine, Mr Veasley," replied Marcel in clear English with the notably similar accent to what Charlie had become accustomed to with his roommate. "Shall ve sit?"

The two men walked over to the table in silence while Herb acquainted Ryan with his new member, Toma Nicolescu. They sat across from Bella and Bianca, whom barely took notice as the familiar voice of the Italian researcher filled the air around the table and monopolised her recruit.

"Wonderful, now that we're all paired up," Herb's voice boomed, silencing Bella's chatter as he strolled up to the head of the table while the last two were seated. He placed his hands firmly on the wooden surface, giving everyone a friendly glance. "For the rest of the afternoon, the mentors are responsible for you new folk. They'll be showing you around your workplace and filling you in on the duties entailed, and of course answering all of those eager questions you probably have. So, eat up and enjoy your afternoon. Mentors, have the recruits in my office by seven o'clock tonight for room assignments and job shadowing will start tomorrow."

With everything said, Herb turned on his heels and left the lounge door shut. No one waited before dashing for sandwiches and salads, the tantalising meal too tempting for them to resist any second longer. Plates shuffled and passed around the table of eight, everyone piling their portions of Nisha's homemade delicacies high.

"Caesar, Mr Veasley?" Marcel asked politely, holding the salad bowl filled with crisp romaine lettuce and creamy dressing topped with bits of toasted garlic croutons out to his mentor.

"Thank you," Charlie nodded with a smile, taking the bowl to scoop out his lunch.

He turned to his new shadow once the salad had been passed across the table. The scrawny lad beside him had his napkin daintily folded in his lap, while the silvery coloured knife and fork worked smoothly cutting through his tuna sandwich into respectable bites.

Even the ladies across the table gave each other quizzical looks over the table manners of the newest dragon keeper.

* * *

"So, basically you'll need to take all that equipment onto the field, and it's mandatory to have your wand as close to you as possible at all times," Charlie explained as he lead his private tour through the hallway. "Best if it's tucked into your belt or up your sleeve for quick access."

Marcel nodded, scribbling down notes in his native Romanian language to a piece of parchment paper so not to miss a single detail. He'd taken note of nearly everything Charlie had mentioned along their tour even going so far as to make a map and place stars on the important rooms, the largest one being placed over the infirmary.

"I hope you've got appropriate attire for tomorrow," the redhead dragon keeper coughed slightly as his recruit loosened the knot on his tie slightly.

"Oh, I do," the new worker responded quickly with a nod. "No fear, Mr Veasley."

"Call me Charlie, if you don't mind," his mentor instructed gently, turning down a hall to the mess hall. "We're very casual around here. First names are fine."

"Very vell, Charlie," Marcel nodded yet again, writing the note to himself.

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you decide to become a dragon keeper?" Charlie finally asked, no longer being able to contain the burning question.

The boyish recruit cleared his throat thoroughly before speaking. "Vell, I alvays did like dragons as a boy. I vould think vorking vith the creatures, it vould bring joy to me, to know I am making a difference in their lives, and am preserving their kind for the future."

"Well, good, cause its hard work out there," cautioned Charlie as they finally turned into the almost empty mess hall. The lunch crowd had cleared out long ago, only a few stragglers remaining with coffee and a newspaper as Nisha swerved around the tables and set down enchanted dishtowels to do the work for her.

Marcel looked about for himself, taking a few steps around the large room and taking in the space while Charlie gave a wave to the best cook on the reserve. There was little to say about the room itself that hadn't already been said and written onto parchment by the recruit.

"Vhat is this, Charlie?" Marcel questioned, making his mentor look over to where he had wandered.

The Romanian lad stood before the bulletin board, where everyone had been pasting news about the war in the United Kingdom. Every day the news brought on more sorrow for the country, articles being pasted on top of ones that had preceded it only a few days before. The death of Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang, had been buried under more recent obituaries and missing announcements though it had only been a few weeks since his corpse had been discovered.

"It's a notice board," Charlie explained with a sigh, his eye catching an article from a Zurich paper about the mysterious disappearance of Mr Ollivanders, the wand maker. "We've been using it to keep updated on the war against You-Know-Who."

"Ah…I see," the lanky man nodded along, glancing over the headlines that blared out at him and grazing the adjoining moving pictures with his index finger. "I have been following it myself. Very sad, but vhat is this?"

Marcel pointed at a yellow leaflet with a red border tacked near the top of the board, bearing large bold black letters. Casually, Charlie glanced over and read the brief message typed over it only to become stunned over its words.

_The Order of the Phoenix:_

_Meeting_

_August 25, 1996_

_8:00 pm in Conference Room 3_

* * *

**A/N:** There was a lot of time writing this chapter when I did it, so I feel I should be noting something about it.

The difficult part was the confrontation of Charlie and Simeon. It has been edited several times and I went back to ask Raquel, Simeon's creator, about it. Something just wasn't clicking with it and Raquel helped clear it up over some conversations. Simeon said WAY too much the first few times, so his dialogue has been cut in favour of his character. He is a man of few words, but all of them must have reason to be said.

Originally, this chapter was also posted over at Phoenix Prophecy, on Simeon's actual birthday. January 1.

Also, I felt Bella was noticeably absent over the past few chapters, so she makes her return here alongside a cast of new people.

And for some reason, Marcel looks a lot like Topher Grace in my head.

I think that's all that's worth noting.

Enjoy!


End file.
